It started with loving in the dark, with wild blooms fretting what breathed beyond the moon’s bright, half-lies and a curious little girl, a Willow Tree who told human tales, and with The Boy howling into the face of another in an old NYC apartment.
About Blooming Howls
Some stories are finished the moment the last word is written down. That rarely happens with my writing. Most of my tales are word-seeds: characters, conflicts and plots sowing in my mind, blooming on my tongue, waiting to be howled through my fingertips and birthed into complete stories.
Blooming Howls is a short collection of story-sprouts that grew… and grew… and will continue to grow into more…
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